Angela's Awakening
by Christine Morgan
Summary: A coming-of-age tale set on Avalon. Mature readers only. #17 in an ongoing saga.


  
Angela's Awakening   
by Christine Morgan   
http://www.sabledrake.com   
christine@sabledrake.com 

* * *

  
Author's Note: the characters of Gargoyles are the property of Disney and   
are used here without their creators' knowledge or consent. All others   
property of the author; please don't borrow without permission. Mature readers   
only; sexual content.  
  
#17 in an ongoing Gargoyles fanfic saga 

* * *

  
"Angela! Gabriel!"  
Angela looked up and broke into a welcoming smile as Ruth  
glided down into the courtyard.  
"Good evening, sister!" she called, dashing to meet her as  
she landed.  
Gabriel, arguing with Jericho, glanced over and waved  
before returning to the task at hand -- focusing his will on his second-  
in-command until he got his own way.  
Ruth caped her bronze wings and smoothed her maroon hair,  
then clasped Angela's hands. "Oh, Angela, you must come and see!  
Malachi and I have found the most wonderful place!"  
"Another new place? We've been finding more and more of  
them lately. What do you think it could mean?" Angela asked  
excitedly. "Where is it?"  
"Near the meadow where Princess Katherine and Guardian  
Tom used to take us to play."  
"Flower Meade? I haven't been there in ages!"  
"What's going on?" Gabriel came over to join them.  
Ruth fluttered nervously and giggled. "I was just telling  
Angela that Malachi and I found a new place. Did you ever ask the  
Magus why that happens?"  
Gabriel shrugged. "He just says it's Avalon, in that voice of  
his that makes me feel a fool for even wondering."  
"You'd never be a fool, I'm sure!" Ruth gushed. "But do you  
want to come and see it? There's a fountain, with statues like I've  
never seen before! Beautiful as the moon and stars!"  
"What do you think, Angela?"  
"It sounds like fun!"  
"Great!" Gabriel clapped his hands. "I'll tell Jericho to keep  
an eye on things here, and you tell Princess Katherine and Guardian  
Tom. See if they want to come with us."  
"Come on, Ruth!" Angela tugged her rookery sister by the  
elbow. As soon as they entered the castle proper, she turned to Ruth  
and planted her hands on her hips. "Okay, what is it?"  
"What is what?" Ruth evaded.  
"You know. For weeks now, you've been acting like a silly  
rabbit whenever you're around Gabriel. What's the matter?"  
"Nothing!" Her skin darkened to copper. "Why would  
anything be the matter?"  
"Ruth," Angela chided. "I know you better than that!"  
"Well ..."  
"Yes?" she prompted.  
Ruth looked around, making sure nobody could overhear.  
"Well, Angela, he's just awfully handsome, is all. Haven't you  
noticed?"  
"So what? He doesn't look that much different from a year  
ago, and a year ago you weren't being such a goose!"  
"He looks different to me! Don't you see it?"  
"See what?"  
Ruth ran a distracted talon through her hair. "Oh, I don't  
know, how strong he's getting, or how wide his wingspan's become,  
and he's got the most lovely eyes!"  
Angela giggled. "You've been gliding by moonlight too  
long, and it's made you giddy."  
"I don't think so, Angela. I think something is happening to  
us. We're changing. All of us. Malachi feels it too."  
"We're growing up," she said carelessly. "Guardian Tom  
remarks on it all the time. We're -- what? thirty years out of the egg?  
-- which makes us almost adults."  
"Yes," Ruth said thoughtfully. "Adults. What then?"  
"What are you talking about? What then? Same as always!  
We protect our home, we hunt, we practice our warrior skills, we  
study the lessons the Magus assigns. What else is there?"  
"I don't know, Angela," Ruth said, glancing down at herself.  
"But there has to be something more. We've changed. You, me,  
Ophelia, Hippolyta ..."  
"Do you mean these?" Anglea cupped the twin mounds of  
flesh on her chest. She laughed and tossed her head. "They're called  
breasts. Elektra asked the Magus. He says they're perfectly normal,  
nothing to worry about."  
"I'm not worried. Did the Magus say what they're for?"  
"Besides making us have to learn to glide all over again  
from the added weight? No, I don't think so. What's the fuss? They're  
just lumps." She paused. "Although Gabriel does keep _looking_ at  
them. I almost expect him to ask if he can play with them."  
"Would you let him?" Ruth asked curiously.  
Angela shrugged. "Like I said, what's the fuss? It'd be no  
different from when we used to pull on each others' tails."  
Ruth frowned. "Really?"  
"Of course. See?" She touched Ruth and drew back in  
surprise when the other gargoyle gasped. "What's the matter?"  
"That felt funny."  
"Nonsense." She petted her own. "I don't feel anything  
strange."  
Hesitantly, Ruth mimicked her action. "Well, yes, but when  
you did it, it felt different. Like that." She reached out and ran a hand  
over one of Angela's.  
It was Angela's turn to gasp. Ruth was right. "How strange!  
Maybe it's like tickling. Guardian Tom said it was impossible to  
tickle yourself."  
"But it doesn't feel bad," Ruth mused.  
"No," Angela said. "Rather good, actually."  
They stood in thoughtful silence, hands moving gently over  
each other's chests. Although the hall was cool, Angela felt flushed.  
She had not unpleasant tinglings low in her belly and where her wings  
joined her back. Ruth's breath was faster, and beneath her fingers,  
Angela could feel the rapidity of her sister's pulse.  
"I wonder what it means?" Ruth finally said. "Do you think  
it's dangerous? Maybe we're ill!"  
"Piffle," Angela stated grandly. "The Magus would know if  
something was wrong. He spends night after night with Elektra, and  
she's got them. She got them first, now that I think of it. So  
everything must be fine. Come along, Gabriel's going to think we  
forgot him." She swept past Ruth and rapped on the door to  
Katherine's parlor. When nobody answered, she peeked in. The  
hearth was dark although wood was laid ready. The room was empty.  
"Princess? Guardian Tom?"  
"They're not here."  
"Eeep!" Ruth cried. "Magus! You startled me!"  
"Not here?" Angela echoed. "Where did they go?"  
"Out," the white-haired man said shortly. He held a book,  
his place marked with one long pale finger. Had they ever seen him  
without a book, at least near at hand? Nay, Angela thought. Not ever.  
"But where?" Angela pressed. "I wanted to speak to them."  
The Magus gazed past Angela into the shadowy parlor, and  
a ghost of pain swept over his face. He brushed her aside and firmly  
shut the door. "Not tonight. It is a special day for them."  
"Special? Is it someone's birthday?" Ruth asked.  
"No." His tone was cold, sharp.  
The two young gargoyles exchanged a look. Angela had  
been considering asking him about their breasts, but decided that now  
wasn't the best time. The Magus was in a mood, and they'd long since  
learned to stay out of his path when he was in a mood.  
"If you see them, could you tell them that we're going  
exploring?" she said. "In case we're not back by dawn. We wouldn't  
want to worry them."  
"I'll relate that." He walked slowly away, as if it hurt him to  
do so.  
When he rounded a corner in a sweep of robes and was  
gone, Angela turned to Ruth and raised one brow ridge. "Eeep?"  
"He startled me!"  
Angela sniffed. "Fine warrior you're turning out to be!"  
Ruth did her best to ignore the taunt. "I wonder where they  
are? It's not our hatching day, is it?"  
"No, they always spend that with us. Perhaps it is one of  
those holidays we've read of. A Saint's Mass, or something."  
"You're probably right. I guess we'll just have to go without  
them."  
"We don't have to go tonight."  
"But Malachi is waiting! We were hunting, and he caught  
the most majestic stag! He'll need help carrying it back to the castle."  
"Oh, all right. Why do you suppose the Magus was acting so  
oddly?" Angela wondered as they made their way back to the  
courtyard.  
"Has he ever acted normal?"  
"More oddly than usual, then. Between you and he, it's  
starting to seem like everyone's gone funny."  
"I'm not funny," Ruth protested as they emerged into the  
courtyard.  
"Isn't that the truth," Jericho remarked, giving her a wink.  
He was leaning against a wall, one foot drawn up and planted against  
the stone, cleaning his talons with the tip of a dagger. His red hair fell  
over one eye, giving him a rascally appearance.  
"Nobody asked your opinion," Ruth replied archly, flicking  
her tail at him.  
"Nobody ever does. Gabriel just gives orders."  
"Well, he's the leader," Angela said, patting him on the  
shoulder. "Guardian Tom says he'll soon learn to value the wisdom of  
his warriors, and we just have to humor him until he does."  
"He's stubborn as the night is long. And he's only the leader  
because he was first to hatch."  
"That has nothing to do with it!" Angela said, more sharply  
than she meant. She'd always felt a special kinship with the blue-  
skinned male, but sometimes his contrariness got her hackles up.  
"That's right," Ruth chimed in. "If hatching order had  
anything to do with it, then Angela would be second-in-command, not  
you. Gabriel chose you, and you should be honored by that."  
Jericho waved his hands in a warding-off gesture. "Forget I  
said anything! Go, have fun, and don't let the sun catch you anyplace  
dangerous."  
As they climbed to the upper battlements, where Gabriel's  
distinctive form was silhouetted against the rising cloud-ringed moon,  
Ruth murmured, "He's apt to be trouble someday."  
"Jericho? What are you saying? He just complains a bit  
much. He'll get over it."  
"Still ... if I were Gabriel, I'd watch out."  
"Shh. Let's just go and see this special place, and bring back  
that stag! My mouth waters for venison the way the Magus prepares  
it!"  
Angela stepped up next to Gabriel and brushed her knuckles  
against his elbow spur in an affectionate gesture. She had done it  
hundreds, thousands of times over the years, but this time, Gabriel  
shivered as if touched by a sudden chill.  
He turned to her, and Angela's breath caught in her throat.  
He _did_ look different. The firm line of his jaw, the sleek folds of  
his ears, his tumble of firey amber hair ... Ruth was right, he was  
very, very handsome. She felt a sudden confusion, her body reacting  
as it had done in the hallway. She looked away, flustered.  
"Are you ready to glide, my sister?" he asked in his low,  
pleasant voice. It wasn't so deep as Jericho's rumbling tones, but  
even, pleasant to hear. He brushed a sable lock back from her face,  
his fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary.  
Ruth sighed audibly, and fidgeted when they both looked at  
her. "Um, here! I'll show you the way!" She leapt into the night.  
Gabriel took Angela's hand and they jumped together, as  
they'd done since they were tiny creatures just learning to use their  
wings. The air slipped past them, cool and misty, making their skin  
glisten from the moisture.  
She liked the warmth of his hand, and wondered what it  
would be like if he did want to touch her the way she and Ruth had  
touched each other. For some reason, the thought made her go all  
tingly again. Who was the goose now? He was just Gabriel, her  
rookery brother. She was acting as funny as Ruth!  
A shadow ahead of them, Ruth skimmed low over the lush  
forest that surrounded the castle. Her passage stirred up flocks of  
velvety butterflies, stray leaves, and fragrant petals. To the left, they  
could see the endless rolling waves crested silver by the moon. To the  
right, the land rose in stunning cliffs and highlands to the great peak  
whose thermal warmth kept Avalon temperate the year 'round.  
Angela could see the expanse that was Flower Meade, a  
gently sloping meadow carpeted in soft grass and sweet with  
wildflowers. She smiled, recalling dozens of young gargoyles trying  
their first tentative glides in that field, more often than not ending up  
bouncing along in a cartwheel of wings and tails while Guardian  
Tom's cheerful laughter rang to the heavens.  
Ruth dipped lower, and Gabriel urged Angela to hurry so  
they wouldn't lose sight of their rookery sister in the foliage. Just  
when Angela was sure they couldn't make a safe landing without  
crashing through the tree limbs, she saw Ruth flip her wings smartly,  
catch hold of a sturdy branch with her talons, and turn to wave them  
on.  
They landed beside her. The tree groaned under their  
combined weight but held, and Angela gasped as she saw where Ruth  
was pointing.  
They couldn't have seen it from above. The dense canopy  
interlaced to shield the clearing, a lacy pattern of dark green against  
the sky. The trunks supporting that canopy stood in a nearly perfect  
circle, their upper branches entiwining so that it was impossible to  
tell where one left off and the next began.  
Delicate clusters of white honey-scented flowers dangled  
from the underside of the canopy, shedding a snowfall of petals onto  
the silky ferns below. In the midst of the clearing was the fountain, its  
basin so large that it would take at least six gargoyles hand-in-hand to  
circle it. The edge rose to knee-height and was wide enough to sit  
upon comfortably.  
In the center of the sparkling pool was a statue composed of  
many figures. Three identical gowned women faced outward in a  
ring, pouring endless streams from silvery urns. Two taller figures, a  
man and a woman with unusually angular features and royal garb,  
stood on a pedestal above and between the three women.  
It was a new place. Whenever they thought they knew every  
inch of the island, something like this would turn up. Here a pearly  
spire like a unicorn's horn, there a column-ringed structure around a  
pool. Magic, the Magus said, always with a bitterly wistful tone.  
"Isn't it beautiful?" Ruth whispered.  
"I've never seen anything like it!" Angela also spoke in a  
hush.  
"But where's Malachi?" Gabriel asked.  
"Over here." Ruth jumped lightly to the forest floor, rippling  
the ferns.  
Gabriel and Angela followed, away from the statue and out  
of the clearing to a spot where the body of a large and healthy stag  
lay with its neck broken. Of their rookery brother, though, there was  
no other sign.  
"He _was_ here," Ruth frowned.  
"Wait! Look!" Gabriel bent to the soil, where familiar  
clawed tracks led toward the nearby Flower Meade. "He must have  
gone this way."  
Angela started to call out, but thought better of it. "You  
don't think he's in trouble, do you?"  
"No, of course not," Gabriel said easily. "We've been  
exploring this island since we were old enough to glide. There's  
nothing here to hurt us."  
"But what if there is?" Angela asked. "Somebody must have  
built our castle, enchanted the pantries so that we've never run short  
of supplies. What if that somebody is still about? Making these new  
places appear?"  
Gabriel grinned. "Then Malachi can handle it. He's one of  
our best hunters, and a fine warrior. You worry too much about the  
Magus' tales. The Magus isn't a warrior as we are. He fears things  
needlessly."  
"Shh!" Ruth hissed. "I think I see him!"  
The three of them crept closer, and soon saw Malachi,  
crouched in the bushes, staring intently ahead.  
He wasn't the tallest of their clan, Jericho having him beat by  
a couple of inches, but he was the biggest, barrel-chested and thick-  
limbed. His skin was dark green, making him hard to spot in the  
forest night. If they'd not recognized the silhouette of the great  
curving horns on either side of his smooth-skinned head, they might  
have passed unseeing.  
His silence, his motionlessness, alerted the other three. They  
respected his hunting skills and immediately made efforts to be as  
quiet as possible, so as not to scare away whatever game he'd spotted.  
Stealthy as they were, he heard them and turned slightly,  
beckoning with a peculiar expression. Gabriel opened his mouth to  
question but Malachi shushed him with a gesture, and they all knelt to  
peer through the screen of branches and leaves.  
Ruth, Angela, and Gabriel all gasped in unison, earning a  
stern look from Malachi.  
"What are they _doing_?" Angela whispered, at once  
repulsed and intrigued.  
"Bathing?" Gabriel suggested in a low voice.  
"But there's no water!" Angela said.  
"They must be sick," Ruth hissed. "See how they moan and  
roll about?"  
"They've food and wine, maybe they've been poisoned!"  
Gabriel leaned forward but Malachi held him back.  
"They're not sick, nor hurt," he said. "I think they're -- I don't  
know what I think, but I don't think it's dangerous."  
"It must be!" Ruth insisted. "Their faces are so pained!"  
"Then why are they kissing?" Angela said.  
"They're so pale, and small, and fragile," Gabriel murmured,  
fascinated. "I've never seen them unclad before."  
Ruth's eyes widened. "What is _that_?"  
Gabriel and Malachi exchanged a sudden look,  
knowledgeable and almost guilty.  
"It's a male part," Angela guessed. "I remember from when  
we were hatchlings, before the Magus made us wear clothes."  
Ruth's gaze turned accusatory toward Gabriel and Malachi.  
"Males have those? Even you?"  
"Um, well, yes," Gabriel admitted, turning a few shades  
darker.  
"What's he doing to her?" Angela clutched Gabriel's arm.  
"He's hurting her!"  
"I think she likes it," Malachi said slowly.  
Gabriel put a comforting arm around Angela. "He'd never  
hurt her, you know that."  
"Angela, look! She has breasts, just like us! And see, he's  
touching them!"  
"But she's thrashing so!" Angela fretted.  
"It's all right." Gabriel's hand moved soothingly over her  
back and caped wings.  
"She's praying," sharp-eared Ruth reported, frowning  
quizzically. "And calling to God!"  
"Did you hear that?" Malachi asked. "He almost roared like  
a warrior!"  
"Are they unconscious?" Ruth whispered. "They're not  
moving anymore. Oh, wait, he's getting up. They must be all right."  
Angela stared. "What happened to his ... his ... part? It's all  
shrunken!"  
Another guilty look passed between the males. "Well ..."  
Malachi began, stammered awkwardly for a moment, and fell silent.  
"They, um, change," Gabriel said. "The Magus said it wasn't  
anything to worry about. Sometimes they just get big like that, but it  
doesn't last very long."  
Angela looked down at her breasts, lifted them, studied  
them. "Ours don't change," she said to Ruth in a slightly aggreived  
voice. "They stay big all the time."  
The attention of both males was fixed on her chest. Gabriel  
swallowed hard. "Nothing wrong with that!"  
"Shh!" Ruth motioned. "They're getting dressed!"  
"Should we say hello?" Angela asked.  
"No," Gabriel decided. "If they'd wanted us to see, they  
would have stayed at the castle. Whatever they were doing must be a  
secret. We'll stay quiet until they leave, and not tell them what we  
saw."  
They hid in the bushes, watching and waiting, until the  
meadow was empty and the four of them were alone in the night.  
"Why do you think they were doing that?" Angela asked.  
"Remember," Ruth said, "how it felt when we were touching  
each other? Good, and exciting. Maybe that's why."  
"Like this?" Gabriel moved his hand from Angela's back to  
her front.  
"Ooh," she murmured, and leaned into that warm, firm  
pressure. "That does feel nice."  
"Yes, it does," he said.  
The sweet, tingly sensation was washing over her again,  
much stronger now. She found that her own hands didn't want to keep  
still, preferring to wander over Gabriel's muscular arms and chest and  
shoulders. He wore an expression that was both concentrating and  
somehow dreamlike.  
"But is it something we _should_ be doing?" Ruth wondered  
pensively as Malachi followed Gabriel's example. "We were taught  
everything else. About being warriors, hunting, reading, history,  
music, all of that. Why nothing about this?"  
"Maybe they just thought we knew," Malachi said.  
Angela didn't care. She closed her eyes and arched her back,  
bringing her breasts more fully into Gabriel's hands. Her legs shifted  
aimlessly. There was a deep, humming pulse running through her.  
With her eyes shut, her sense of touch seemed richer. His  
skin was a velvety landscape of mountains and valleys, the air stirred  
by a flex of his wings was a cool breeze. Her fingers slipped down  
between his wings and his back, running along the place where they  
joined.  
Gabriel's entire body stiffened. He drew in a harsh gasp  
between clenched teeth. Angela opened her eyes.  
"What --?" was as far as she got before he kissed her full on  
the lips.  
They'd kissed before, all of the rookery siblings had. It was  
just something learned from the affectionate kisses bestowed by the  
princess and Tom. But those playful pecks were nothing like this. He  
caught her openmouthed, their breath mingling. He tasted of fruit and  
bread and something else undefinable.  
Gabriel growled low in his throat. His arms encircled her  
waist, pulling her tight against him. His wings clamped down, pinning  
her hands where they were. Her heightened tactile sense could detect  
every coarse fiber of his garments, the indifferent metal of his belt  
buckle, the insistent press of something hard against her stomach. Her  
tail swished through the bedewed grass, the cool moisture in sharp  
contrast to Gabriel's heat.  
And to think, she had scoffed at Ruth! How had she not seen  
it before? How had she been blind to his handsomeness, so  
unresponsive to the overpowering maleness that she could now sense  
so clearly?  
It seemed then as if a candle flared alight in a hitherto  
unknown part of her mind, and she understood quite well what their  
differences were about, what they had witnessed in the meadow, what  
it meant to be an adult.  
His mouth left hers and moved down her neck. She sighed  
into the dim fire of his hair. He tugged at her laces, opening the front  
of her garment so that her breasts were revealed, and paused to feast  
his eyes upon them.  
She was peripherally aware that Ruth and Malachi were  
locked in a similar embrace, but more interesting to her was the bulge  
swelling below Gabriel's belt. "That's your male part," she said  
surely. "And it's gotten big."  
He nodded.  
"Why?"  
"I think it has something to do with you and how beautiful  
you are, Angela," he said, taking her hands and leading them. "I want  
you to touch it."  
"I'd like that." She did so. Now it was he that arched his  
back and closed his eyes as her fingers moved, curiously at first, over  
what felt like a long, thick pole under the wool of his loincloth.  
Gabriel exhaled raggedly. Angela was delighted by the  
effect she seemed to be having, and more delighted by the effect his  
caress was having on her. He had bared her to the waist, and  
alternated caressing her breasts with sliding his fingers along her  
back. Now she knew why he had reacted that way. She felt like her  
body was made of glowing liquid, molten gold.  
He moved so that they knelt opposite each other, two pairs  
of wings folded foward to enclose them, the outer edges touching. He  
tore loose his belt, letting his loincloth drop heedlessly.  
Angela hesitated, examining him. His skin there was a bit  
darker, taut over the engorged length. She took gentle hold and  
stroked as if it was a captive bird.  
His fingers hooked into her belt and pulled fiercely. The  
braided cords snapped and her skirt fell away. His tail twined around  
her bare thigh. "Let me look at you," he breathed.  
She dropped her arms to her sides. First his gaze, and then  
his touch and his lips, moved over her. He started at her brow ridges,  
down to her mouth, her neck, her breasts, her stomach. She bent  
backward to allow him better access. When his hand slipped between  
her legs, she uttered a startled but thrilled moan and fell onto her  
back.  
Gabriel fell with her so that he was laying half atop her, his  
fingers exploring the hidden area down below while he kissed her  
breasts. She rocked her hips, finding that the motion increased the  
pleasure. His male part pressed urgently against her leg. She gripped  
it more firmly this time, making him growl again.  
"I want to do what they were doing," he said hoarsely.  
"Do you know how?" she panted.  
"Like this." He rolled his weight onto her, parting her thighs.  
She spread her wings flat on the grass for balance and raised her  
knees.  
"Like this?"  
Now his male part was rubbing where his hand had been  
before, thick and throbbing, making her head whirl with wild  
sensations. "Not quite," he said. "I think it goes -- ah!"  
"Ah!" Angela cried as she felt a shift and a thrust and a  
sudden fullness. She drew her legs higher, crossing her heels just  
above the base of his tail. Her toes clawed the air, her fingers clawed  
his shoulders.  
He clamped his lips over hers, silencing their cries. His hips  
moved in a steady, instinctive rhythm. Each thrust seemed to push  
them closer together, as if he was going to disappear inside of her and  
be part of her for all time.  
She burned, she blazed, she erupted.  
Her eyes flashed crimson light. Her hair whipped through  
the grass as her head lashed back and forth. A trembling ripple seized  
her limbs. Gabriel convulsed against her, his teeth bruising her lips,  
his wings buffeting with the sound of leathery thunder.  
When her shuddering subsided, Angela opened her eyes and  
saw the frosty globe of the moon suspended behind Gabriel's head.  
He was looking down at her with mingled awe and exhaustion.  
She danced her fingers along his arm to play with his elbow  
spur. She tried to speak but only a contented purr emerged.  
He rumbled in agreement and let his brow rest against her  
shoulder. She gradually unwound her legs and tail, which had held  
him strongly to her. They rolled apart and lay side by side, holding  
hands.  
"Angela?" Ruth called softly.  
"Hmm?"  
"Did you ...?"  
"Mmm-hmm."  
"Did you like it?"  
"Mmm-hmm!"  
Gabriel squeezed her hand and grinned.  
"Oh, good," Ruth sighed. "Me too."  
Malachi chuckled deeply. "Gabriel?"  
"Yes, and yes," he replied, still grinning. "And I will again!"  
  
* *  
The End 


End file.
